Gun Master G-9! will…claw your eyes out?
Mithun has been sadly underrepresented in my Hindi film experience—I have only seen him in Disco Dancer, Ashanti (meh) and Ganga Jamuna Saraswati (argh, plus he was totally wasted in it). I don’t really “get” the Mithun appeal based on those three films—I keep hearing what a great dancer he is, for instance, but have not seen any evidence to support it. I’ve actually never seen any evidence that there was any choreography at all in Hindi films from the 80s, so perhaps it isn’t really his fault. In any case, I thought perhaps I could watch this and expand my Mithun knowledge a wee bit. I was warned against it, I admit, but I’m tired of looking for Surakksha; Gun Master G-9 is Gun Master G-9 after all, right? How bad can it be?
It’s really bad. It is “So Bad It’s Good” in fact, and let me just say that I am very picky about the whole SBIG thing. I tried to watch Dance Dance once, as it was recommended as a fine example of the genre, but couldn’t get through it (so actually I have watched three and a third Mithun films). Generally I find any film considered SBIG just plain intolerable. But this one is so gleefully and unrepentantly awful (as opposed to merely indifferently or incompetently awful) that I have to give it kudos! It works truly hard to be this bad, and doesn’t let up at all—the end is as ludicrously stupid as the rest of it. Shabash, Ravi Nagaich, shabash!
There are lots of screen caps, because honestly there was something at least every 3-4 minutes to keep my attention riveted. I also decided to watch the songs closely (which is painful for me when Bappi Lahiri disco tunes are involved) to see if Mithun really can, in fact, dance.
Mithun Dance Exhibit A: Standing motionless in a John Travolta pose ‡ dancing (neither does twitching uncontrollably, marching in place or writhing on the floor). Mithun is not dancing yet.
Shakti Kapoor plays a character named…Shakti Kapoor! I cannot abide the man; even before I knew what a creepy guy he is in real life too, I couldn’t stand him. But that creep factor does make him really villainous. And his deeds in this film are even creepier than he is—he is unleashing armies of locusts on local farmers to manipulate the price of wheat and rice (which he has also doctored with “medicine” that has an aphrodisiac effect on all who eat it).
Please note that the dead locusts are clearly made of yellow plastic. No attempt whatsoever has been made to make them look real.
Shakti’s day job is being the CEO of a company called Profit Promoters. His business model is similar to that of the Underpants Gnomes in South Park, to wit:
- Step 1: steal underpants
- Step 2: hmmmm…uhhhh…
- Step 3: profit!
Shakti reports in to a mysteriously unseen man—unseen that is, except for his riding boots (black leather, of course).
They apparently believe that there is only one obstacle standing in the way of their world domination: Gun Master G-9 (Mithun, duh) (get it? heh). I wonder if they would be so worried if they could see his bedroom decor:
It’s not the girl’s room—it is GMG-9’s room. Seriously.
Mithun Dance Exhibit B: Channeling Amitabh Bachchan’s movements ‡ dancing. Neither does standing on one leg like a stork and bending backwards. I’m still waiting to see Mithun dance.
GMG-9 works for the Chief (Iftekhar), a man who loves his flashing, beeping gadgets and needless complications like pointless code words.
The Chief and GMG-9 seem to have a love-hate kind of relationship, and I have to wonder if it bothers the Chief at all that his agent drives around in a car which loudly advertises his not-so-secret status (and actually, why is he even called Gun Master? He almost never has a gun!).
The Chief has been working with Professor Malhotra, a bug expert with a wayward daughter named Kajal (Kajal Kiran). Kajal meets GMG-9 when he “borrows” her motorcycle in a chase with the bad guys. She is thrilled by his prowess, as it were, and begs him to teach her some riding tricks. She is overcompensating for being a girl instead of the boy her mother (Praveen Paul) wanted.
The motorcycle lessons give me another opportunity to scrutinize Mithun’s dancing:
Mithun Dance Exhibit C: Sadly, butt-butting does not constitute dancing either, although I think the sterilizing tightness of his pants may be an adequate excuse *this* time.
Another scientist is working for the Chief too; Anand wears gold chains in lieu of shirts, and has a sister named Anuradha (Kalpana Iyer) who is a doctor.
When Anand (along with his voluptuous assistant named Rosy) is killed by Shakti, Anuradha vows revenge. Misled by Shakti into believing that GMG-9 is her brother’s murderer, she attempts to lure our hero into a trap by blowing up a river raft thingie. She is certainly dressed more for seduction than for boating (and apparently it doesn’t bother Dr. Anuradha to kill other people as part of her plan).
She blows it up as GMG-9 is crossing a bridge, and he jumps in to rescue her. He takes her home, where she is instructed by Shakti to keep him “happy” until he can get there and kill him.
Her hairstyle by itself would be entertainment enough, but she takes the opportunity to don another slinky dress too.
Mithun Dance Exhibit D: Pelvic thrusting while you stand and stare like a moron ‡ dancing. Mithun, Mithun…how you disappoint me! Truly you are running out of time; I am not sure how much more of Bappi’s music I can take.
Luckily, a plot element is introduced which somewhat compensates for the lack of Mithun dancing: a hunchback! I’m always happy to see one, especially in a lab with flashing lights.
And also: Mithun strips to the waist in order to apply some Locust Repellant!
Kajal applies some too, and they fly their small plane directly into an oncoming locust swarm. They probably should have put their repellent on the plane itself, because all those locusts getting into the engine causes them to crash.
Back at HQ, the Chief gets word that Shakti and his men have kidnapped Professor Malhotra, and are demanding that GMG-9 turn himself over to them in exchange for the Professor’s life.
GMG-9 rescues the Professor with very little trouble indeed, to Kajal’s unending gratitude. She now insists on accompanying GMG-9 into the jungle (along with sidekick Jagdeep, who was pathetically unfunny), where someone has discovered a way to manipulate the locusts (GMG-9 deduces this by reading Anand and the Professor’s “research”).
In the jungle, some shenanigans and another horrible song ensue:
Mithun Dance Exhibit E: No, no, no, no. That is not dancing either! I don’t care how much aphrodisiac-infested rice you ate!
And finally, our trio finds the headquarters of evil belonging to the riding-booted madman. Evil HQ appears to be some sort of Egyptian tourist site patrolled by tiny silvery semi-transparent men in fencing outfits complete with swords.
Inside, we learn that Shakti’s boss has a three-pronged approach to taking over the world. In addition to locusts and freakish medications in the world’s rice supply, the laboratory hunchback has been manufacturing…babies!
“They will be like no babies ever before!” Shakti announces to the group of African tourists picked up as extras off the streets of Bombay. Then he introduces them to his boss: the jack-booted jodhpur-clad hunchback named Jambola. Jambola has bigger problems than his deformed back.
He invites them all to a celebration that night, which I cannot wait for! (Two words: tribal disco.) Will Mithun finally dance? Will the Africans be offended by all the faux-tribal caricaturing? What will happen to all the plastic babies and locusts?? Can Gun Master G-9 save the world???
Watch Wardat to find out. But I warn you—it’s bad. Really really bad.
SPOILER: Mithun doesn’t dance. Strutting in a circle while singing that evil guys will get theirs! ‡ dancing. So I am still mystified as to where his rep as a dancer comes from. And furthermore, whoever sang for him (I think it might have been Bappi himself) sounded like Mickey Mouse on speed—it was completely incongruous with the GMG-9 persona.
Mithun is puppy-dog cute, though, in the same way that Sanjay Dutt is.